RR-CDA (5 page)

“Sure.” Owen didn’t move, didn’t look away.

“Thanks for breakfast.” He wanted to leave, but his feet wouldn’t cooperate. He was rooted in place.

“Anytime.” Owen’s lips curled into a smug little smirk. The sparkle in his eyes that had disappeared earlier was back.

Lust warmed Cole’s chest and spread downward until his cock was hard in his pants. This was stupid. He shouldn’t be attracted to a man he barely knew, a man who had issues of his own and was more than likely a workaholic. Spending time with him would lead to awkward encounters and things that they’d both end up regretting.

“I thought you were leaving?” Owen cocked his eyebrow as he murmured the words.

Cole swallowed. “I am.”
As soon as I remember how to walk.
“I’m not looking for another relationship.”

“I’m not either. I don’t have time for one.” Owen tilted his head. “But hey, maybe you could use the company. And quite frankly, I could use a bit of time to myself. You’d be doing me a favor.”

“By doing what?”
Such a bad idea . . .

“Well, it’s fourteen days before Christmas Eve—”

“Seventeen.”

“Close enough. On the weekend we’ll go out and have some fun. Maybe we can do a bunch of things, a few every day or two. Something to make up for the shitty breakup for you, and a chance for me to get away from the bar for a bit.”

“Sex?”

“You have that on the brain or something?” Owen laughed. “No, just two guys hanging out. I’ll come up with some stuff. You come up with some stuff. It’ll be fun. No pressure to perform, to do anything that you’re uncomfortable with.”

It had been a long time since Cole had bothered doing something just for the hell of it. Steven used to tell him to lighten up, that he was always too serious. It had been one of the reasons he’d wanted to take him to Banff, to prove that he could be as fun as anyone. Well, Steven wasn’t here now, but that didn’t mean that he couldn’t go for it.

“Fine. I’m game.” Without thinking about it, his body swayed closer to Owen’s.
Shit, too close.
He stepped back and cleared his throat. “I’ll leave you my number.” Grabbing a pen and a napkin, he quickly scrawled his cell number down. Owen still hadn’t said anything about the near kiss, and that was probably for the best.

When he stood up and held out the napkin for Owen, the other man was looking at him with a strange expression. “Thanks. I’ll text you tomorrow with the details.”

“Sounds good.” This was worse than the first time he’d gone out with a guy on a date. “Thanks again for breakfast.”

“Thanks again for helping me with drunk duty. I hope your face is feeling better soon.”

“Better already.”

“I’ll see you out.”

Owen walked him to the front door. The short journey across the bar was the longest minute in his memory. Maybe he was hard up for sex if he’d become this aware of another man’s body, smell, heat, in such a short span of time. Without stopping, he moved past Owen and opened the door.

“Cole?”

He stopped, one foot on the sidewalk, and turned to look over his shoulder at Owen. “Yeah?”

“Next time you have the urge to kiss me”—Owen threw him a wink—“you don’t have to stop.”

With his face flushed, Cole bolted for his condo.

Owen delegated the opening of the bar to Moe and spent some time in his office trying to come up with ideas for his spontaneous invitation for Cole. What the hell had he been thinking, offering to plan multiple days of distractions for them? He didn’t know what to do the first afternoon, much less plan out a bunch of events.

He’d been thinking with his dick, that much was certain.

Thank God he had a week to come up with something. If he had a better sense of who Cole was as a person, then perhaps this wouldn’t be such a monumental task. Shit, he didn’t even know if Cole had simply been humoring him, or had been so wrapped up in the moment that he agreed without thinking. He was certain that he’d get a polite
Sorry but I’ve changed my mind
once he eventually got around to texting him.

If he ever managed to come up with an idea better than bowling.

Who the hell bowled anymore?

With any luck, Cole did.

A knock at his office door drew his attention. “Hey, boss.” Moe gave him a small smile, but didn’t brave coming into the room. He was still in the doghouse after having disappeared the other night, and Moe knew it. “Just wanted to see if you were coming out, or if you’re going to be in here for a while?”

“What time is . . . Shit!” Owen jumped to his feet, sending his chair scraping across the floor. “I’m coming.”

“It’s all good. Jane checked on you a few times and said you looked pretty focused. We’ve got it handled if you’re working on something.” Moe shrugged. “We just wanted to make sure everything was okay.”

“It’s good.” He ran his hand through his hair and huffed. “Just trying to come up with an idea on how to help a friend.” Was Cole a friend? It was easier than trying to say
hot guy who might be attracted to me and whose cock I wouldn't mind sucking.
Much more straightforward.

Moe took a tentative step into the office. “What’s your idea so far?”

He didn’t need to look down at the list to know what was written there. “Bowling.”

“What’s wrong with your friend?”

“Bad breakup.”

“Bowling is good.” Moe shrugged. “So is getting shitfaced while watching a holiday horror movie.”

Owen grabbed his pen and jotted that down. “I don’t even know if he likes horror. But it’s worth a shot.”

“Is this for that guy who was here the other night? The one who got punched?”

“Cole. And yes.”

“Oh.”

Owen looked up and narrowed his gaze. “What?”

“He’s gay, right?”

“Yes.” God, he hoped this wasn’t going to turn into a thing. He actually liked Moe and really didn’t want to have to fire him for something stupid. “Problem?”

Moe’s eyes widened, and he held up his hands. “No way. I don’t know the dude. And you . . . don’t date. Never seen . . . I just thought that would . . . trying to come up with some ideas. That’s all.”

Owen knew Moe was a good kid, he just had a nasty tendency to stick his foot in it more than most. And he was right that Owen hadn’t dated anyone in the six months that he’d worked here. Shit, it really had been a long time for him. “Thanks. I think you should go check on Jane. I don’t want her being out there alone.”

“Yup. Will do.” Owen hadn’t seen Moe move that quickly since the day he’d hired him. It would have been funny if he weren’t in a mood.

What the hell had he gotten himself into?

Something he hadn’t done in a long time, apparently. Hauling out another piece of paper, he quickly scribbled down
lube
and
condoms
.

He was still struggling with his nonexistent list when the phone rang. Without looking at the caller display, he picked it up. “McGregor’s.”

“You’re in the office? Why aren’t you out at the bar? The evening crowd should be there by now.”

Owen closed his eyes and managed to suppress his sigh. “Hi, Dad. How are you doing?”

“Well? It’s past eight and that’s when the crowds start to pick up. Things haven’t changed that much.”

“I know. Jane and Moe are working the bar, and everything is fine.”

“You can’t trust those kids with the business. God only knows what they’ll get up to. You need to be out there watching them to make sure they don’t do anything stupid.”

“I know because I hired them. Everything is fine. Promise.”

This was how their conversations mostly went these days. His dad would criticize, and Owen would get defensive. He hated that their relationship had come to this, especially considering how close they’d always been. He wanted to blame the change in his dad’s behavior on the stroke, but he knew there was more to it than that. His father’s depression had kicked up several notches since he’d officially retired from running McGregor’s. Owen couldn’t imagine how hard it must be, having no other option than to walk away from a life’s work.

Patience and love. That’s what his dad needed, and he’d be dammed if he’d give him anything but that.

“So what has you calling tonight? You looking to come down and check on the old place?” He hoped not, but sometimes that helped his dad get out of his funks. “You know I always have your Guinness on tap.”

“You damn well better. A bar’s not a bar without Guinness.” There was an odd note to his voice. He cleared his throat. “Not coming down tonight. Just wanted to check in. It’s month’s end.”

Ah. “Yes, I’ve been on the accountant to get the report done up. She’s supposed to send you a copy. You know I like you to give everything a look over to make sure those numbers line up.”

“Well, she hasn’t. I don’t like her. She treats me like an idiot.”

Cammie was Owen’s friend from Black Shield, the security company he’d worked at before McGregor’s. Warm and fuzzy weren’t words normally associated with her, but she was the best accountant he knew. “Dad, she treats everyone like an idiot. I’m fairly certain she’s a genius or something.”

The huff came through loud and clear. “It’s still my name on the bar. I want to make sure you’re not running it into the ground.”

It’s my name on the bar too.
Owen dropped his forehead to the edge of the desk. “Give me some credit. You raised me in this bar. I wouldn’t let anything happen.”

Another grumble.

“Dad, if I have a problem with anything you know you’re the first person I’m going to ask.”

“Bullshit. You and your mother are trying to keep me as far away from there as possible. You wouldn’t mention a problem ever.”

“Dad—”

“There’s something wrong right now and you haven’t said a fucking word.”

Owen heard his mother’s admonishing, “Jason, language!” in the background. He chuckled. “You’re in the shit house now.”

“Well, it’s true.” He’d pulled the receiver far enough away that Owen knew the comment was directed toward them both. “Don’t try and deny it; I can tell from the sound of your voice. It was just like how you sounded working for that shit-hole company. Now what the hell’s the matter?”

“It’s a personal thing, nothing to do with the bar. Promise.”

“Man or woman?”

His dad was an old-school kind of guy. They’d had a long conversation Owen’s first year of college when he realized he was attracted to men as much as he was to women. Despite his dad not
getting it
, he’d been surprisingly open-minded about the idea that his son might bring a man home. That said, it wasn’t something they talked about, even if Owen knew he had his parents’ support.

“Dad . . .”

“Must be a man. You never hesitate when it’s a woman.”

The next thing he knew his father’s voice was replaced by his mother’s.

“Owen, baby?”

“Mom.” God, this so needed to end. “I need to get out to the bar.”

“Don’t go lying to me. You just told your father everything was under control. Now, who’s this man and what’s the problem?”

There were two ways this conversation could go: Owen could deny there was a man until his mother wore him down with kindness and guilt, or he could spill the details now and save twenty minutes.

Option B it was. “I met a man. Just a friend, but his boyfriend left him a few days ago for his ex.”

“What a horrible thing. And you want to make him feel better. That’s so sweet.”

“Not sweet.” He’d rarely been accused of sweetness. “Just looking after a good patron.”

“Buy him a beer!” his dad shouted in the background.

“Hush, Jason. Now, what were you thinking?”

He gave her a quick rundown of what had happened. “I have bowling on the list. And watching a horror movie.”

“Ugh, terrible things. Try skating.”

“He might not skate.”

“Easy to learn. Oh, and there’s a series of wonderful holiday tours at some of the local breweries. He might enjoy going to one of those. I think I saw your friend Xander’s place listed.”

Within five minutes, he had a list with more ideas than he’d have ever been able to come up with on his own. “That’s awesome, Mom.”

“My pleasure, dear. If you want to bring your friend over for drinks, you’re always welcome. It would be nice to see you out with someone for a change.”

“It’s not like that.” He didn’t know Cole well, but being brought home to meet the parents would undoubtedly freak him out.

“Of course not.” He hated when she used that tone. “Let me know how you make out.”

“I will. Love you and Dad.”

“Love you too.”

He hung up the phone and stared at his list. Shit, there were some really good ideas here. Things that friends would do together, buddies hanging out having a good time. Sure, there were a few that might be considered romantic if framed in that light, but he had no intention of doing that.

No way. This was about trying to cheer up a friend over the holidays.

It had nothing to do with wanting to see Cole smile.

Or wanting to lean in and kiss him, just to satisfy his curiosity about what the man would taste like.

“Fuck.” Owen shoved the list into his desk, slamming the door shut.